in front of
abandoned houses…
empty mailboxes
rusting to the
ground…
empty swings creaking
in the late evening breeze;
a bottle of wine,
half-empty,
moans in the shadows.
the fields have been picked,
nothing left, but sweat stained dirt….
even the embers have grown cold,
and the pot is empty.
the sounds and smells of living
linger by unmarked stones…
dead poets; old cars…
running on empty!
while poets of the revolution,linger by fires long dead.the human heart changes,slowly, with agonizing feet.the hint of truth merely,the perfume of fallen trees.no I and you, only the bridge,that comes from and leads tothe unmapped flame!the soul has hands,well skilled and driven by need…when the only need is we,the only name unspoken!
like torn pieces of bread,to the flock of starving crows.mind numbing phrases,that drain all feeling from the souls.light the pipe of apathy,poverty dreams and illusions.careful not to touch,not to mingle with the crowd.not to taint his holinesswith the common dirt.his time is over!his world has come to its end!truth has risen from the ruins,and demands…
my wife’s tears fall like thunderto an empty bowli have nothing to buy with,nothing to trade, nowhere to beg,and nothing to stealthe baby’s sick, there’s nothingi can do except watch her diein her momma’s nothing armshungry, and hopelessnothing i can do.
the price is too heavyand the payment’s come duewe stand and face our own raging egos,the mistakes of the past taunt us from the shadows,if we cant redeem today they’ll be no tomorrow,we were born to run never born to follow,we look in our hearts and find that we’re hollow,confessing our sins and drowning in…
of the Vietnam generation.i am the mad rush to Armagadden,the finger on the button.i am the planes, the tanks,and the weapon held close…i am suicide by aggression,and the profit made!i am the Kent State students,and the marches for peace.i am the lone candle litin a world filled with darkness.i am the body count, and a…
